Good narrative/memoir

What makes a good narrative/memoir is creativity. To draw in the reader it has to have an exciting plot with suspense and different from anything the reader has ever read before that keeps it interesting. In a memoir and narrative, there needs to be accounts of real examples and memories of someones life with extensive detail.
Things I might write about:

•  My childhood
• Trips I've gone on 
• High school
• Sports
• Family experiences
• Summer 
•  Embarrassing moments

Nightmare

Nightmare

“License and registration please” The pounding in my chest increased as I frantically searched through my wallet, my hands shaking.

 “What seems to be the problem sir?” I nervously questioned.

“Do you know how fast you were going young lady?” the officer inquired, his shiny badge staring me strait in the face. My mind wondered off as he was ranting. I ignored the mumbling as I stared at the coffee stain on his collar.

“Excuse me miss!” the now angry police officer barked. Before I knew it I could feel his firm grip on my wrists.

“What did I do?” I screeched, horrified, as my head hit the side of my car.

“You have the right to remain silent!” What had just happened? I don’t seem to remember the last ten minutes. Before I knew it, I found myself on the floor pressed up against the icy, cold bars of a shared cell.

“Excuse me officer, how did I get here” I quietly whispered.  I can’t seem to remember arriving there or what had caused me to be sent to this dark chamber. I could hear the moaning of an old man in the cell next to me.

“The witch is coming!” a figure, dressed in all black in the corner of my cell. “Excuse me!” I screamed, terrified of my surroundings. A young officer with the name- tag “Officer Andrews “ came to my cell, with a smirk on his tan, whiskered face.

“What is it?” he impatiently asked.

“How and why am I here? What the heck did I do?” His jaw dropped.

“You don’t know why? You don’t remember anything?” He asked with a great astonishment in his tone.

“No not a thing! Why am I in jail?!” I demanded to know.

“You don’t remember admitting to the robbery last night? You were messed up little miss. Hmm let me remember exactly what you told me. You said something about, uuhh, oh yes! You told me about how you robbed a bank three years ago and that you lived in a mansion and how you were hiding from someone.”  Officer Andrews calmly explained.  I was horrified. Why would I tell the officer that?  I have never robbed a bank in my life! Why do I not remember any of this? I was so incredibly confused with everything going on. I tried to remember the night before what had happened. I just remember sitting at the bar talking to a really good looking guy, he bought me a drink and the next thing I know I am being slammed into my windshield with an officer’s stick in my back. Now it’s a day later and I’m sitting in a strange jail cell with weird people all around me.

 “I have never robbed a bank before, why would I admit to that? Are you sure you have the right person? You have to believe me!” I pleaded.

            A week has gone by and I am still stuck in this concrete jungle. Before I knew it I awoke in a hospital. A man in a dark grey suit and perfect teeth walked towards me, holding a large briefcase.

“Hello ma’am, my name is doctor Alexander Fredrickson. I am a sleep scientist. You must be wondering why I am here. You have been sleeping for over a week! Welcome back.”

Three Minute Stories

I read Good Luck, You Say and I liked it! I loved how they created a horrible situation and made it into something light hearted and interesting. This lady is shown as a very different character and free spirited. I also liked the way they described the accident with great detail when they said "she shuttered at the sound of breaks screeching and metal crunching." http://www.npr.org/2011/11/10/142226611/good-luck-you-say

Don't Worry

            Today was the first day of summer, the sun beaming, and the crickets chirping. I was anxiously awaiting my flight that will take me off the grid, away from reality, where I will finally be able to breathe again. I want a perfect beautiful reality but that is never possible in this world. That is why I am leaving, escaping the pain until it disappears.

            As I get on the plane, I look back at the world around me, I think about what I am leaving behind. The salty taste of tears upon my cheeks, the ache of a cracked heart in need of repair, the frost on my eyelashes and the woody smell of a card board box that brings back memories of new locations, each one worse then the last. I am escaping a life of meaningless actions. What is it to life without a meaning or purpose? Why am I unhappy? I open my eyes to the white picket fence and perfect crisp green grass every day but when the sun is no longer shining, when I close my eyes, I enter a world of unhappiness.

            As I step off the plane the air so clear and crisp, I can feel the bricks crack and fall that are weighing on my lungs. The salty sea air fills my chest as I take my first step onto the warm sand. My fears and stresses slowly fade away by each step. I suddenly hear a soft sound of music singing, “every little thing is going to be alright”. That is when I knew I was in the right place. I took my steps into paradise. 

Island...

Ahh! I screeched as I awoke from the same nightmare that had been haunting me for over a year now, with the dampness of a fearful sweat. My mind will not stop replaying the events that had occurred that past year. It was a sunny wednesday summer evening, everything was just about perfect, the breeze and smell of the salty ocean drifted through the air until I found myself gasping and searching for the little air that I could find. My heart was beating as fast as the thoughts running through my mind. Will I make it out? Will he kill me?. . .

Welcome :)

Welcome to my blog! This is where thoughts are written down :) hope you enjoy!